


Who said this must be all or nothing?

by UltramarineMaizes



Category: Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Ficlet, Fluff, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-20
Updated: 2016-08-29
Packaged: 2018-08-09 23:57:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 4,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7822267
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/UltramarineMaizes/pseuds/UltramarineMaizes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of Xander/ Laslow ficlets. Mostly fluff.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Cool for the Summer

Sweat rolls down his temple. It’s summer. And while Nohr summers at Castle Krakenburg weren’t as bad as the ones spent in the swampy lands in the south, the heat is still insufferable. Xander parries a swing, smirking as Laslow lowers his sword to lean on it.

“Milord, It’s so hot,” he pants while laughing.

“Wind, rain, snow or sun we have to keep our skills sharpened, Laslow,” Xander replies despite using a tone in agreement because, yes it is incredibly stifling today.

“Alright, but let’s take a break, at least for some tea or something to combat this heat, Milord you must be parched,” Laslow pauses next to him on the way to the door, glancing up, “Milord, tea as usual?”

“Of course, thank you, Laslow,” Xander returns his gaze wondering how Laslow can smile so brightly after training for two hours straight in this summer heat.

Laslow nods, his eyes flicking back to Xander’s. His bangs are matted to his forehead with sweat, but his face is somehow radiant like a jewel in the sun. Without thinking, Xander pulls out a handkerchief and wipes Laslow’s brow, just in time to stop a droplet from hitting his left eye. Laslow momentarily freezes as his eyes go wide, his smile unfaltering.

Xander coughs, “Here take this with you. It’ll help with the heat.”

Laslow’s hand flies up immediately accidentally brushing Xander’s retreating hand, “O-o-oh! Thanks, milord. I-I’ll go get your tea then.”

He spins around too quickly and walks out leaving Xander in the room with nothing but the sound of pounding heartbeats and an abnormal heat that seems too hot for a Nohrian summer.


	2. Clouds in My Coffee

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Maybe Laslow's too enraptured by this handsome customer to bother learning his name. Coffee shop AU

“One venti shaken iced black tea with lemon, please.”

Laslow nods and adds in the order. He doesn’t look up until he asks for the customer’s name while taking his card. Goodness. It’s him again. Mr. 9am and 3pm (Named for the times he comes by to get his coffee). How can it be that he’s seen this guy probably two to three times a week for the past month and hadn’t bothered to remember his name? But maybe it’s because he’s been...kinda distracted by how gorgeous he is.

A stern handsome face framed with golden hair, tall and well dressed. Laslow feels his eyes fluttering as he tries to pull his focus away from this welcome distraction to his mundane life as a coffee chain barista. Perhaps he blinks one time too many when the customer, he means Chandler (is that right? Was that his name? Oh god he forgot his name again, It’s not even acceptable anymore), takes notice and asks, “Are you okay?”

Laslow has a heart attack as Chandler leans closer, but not too close to cross the societal rules of personal space but close enough to make Laslow wonder if he could hear the loud beating of his heart. Ah, it’s so embarrassing!

“Um-! Yea sorry I got something in my eye, sorry I’ll get your order in a second,” he sweats as he hands the card back, his hands shaking as if he just downed ten cups of espresso straight from the machine.

“Take your time,” Chandler says as he pulls out his phone and walks to the pickup area where there are a couple of customers waiting for their drinks already.

When Laslow finally finishes making his venti shaken iced black tea, he calls out Chandler’s name twices before motioning at his beautiful golden head and recognition finally flies across his face that this drink is his.

“Thank you”, Chandler says smiling.

His smile, by the way, is dazzling.

Laslow isn’t sure why but Chandler purposely wraps his long fingers around his as he picks up his drink. Blood rushes to his face. He silently prays that Chandler won’t notice.

“By the way, it’s Xander,” he says with a laugh in his voice, “I’ll see you later, Laslow.”

The floor drops in front of him and the walls stretch high. Mortified, Laslow, face flushed deep red, doesn’t know if he wants to melt into a puddle and drain into the sewage system or find someplace to hide, maybe forever, because this is probably the _most embarrassing_ moment in his life.


	3. Humid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Xander has an embarrassing secret.

During a campaign trip down to the swampier lands in southern Nohr, Laslow finds out his secret. Something Xander would have preferred swept under the rug forever, but it is unavoidable. Father orders a campaign trip to the south, so it shall be done.

Normally, Xander didn’t spend much time on his hair, because he is naturally blessed with soft ringlets. Living up north, where the air was dry, his hair is easy to tame. However down south with all the moisture in the air plus heat, it tends to...expand. Quite a bit.

Laslow covers his mouth immediately, mirth dancing in his eyes which were the only things clearly visible, “Milord, your hair-!”

Xander quickly tries to press it down in a desperate attempt to hide his current predicament from his retainer.

“Here I had thought you were immaculate all the time 24/7, but had I know a bit of humidity would have-” Laslow’s voice wavers as laughter threatens to bubble up.

Xander shoots him a stern look, “Laslow.”

“I’m sorry, Milord, I’m sorry I’m attempting my best to control m-myself,” Laslow chokes back another chuckle.

Xander narrows his eyes, “Do not speak of this.”

Laslow nods quickly, both hands over his mouth, shoulder shaking. Xander envies how his hair can stay silky and most importantly _manageable_ in this heat. Resignedly, he sighs turning around to look at a mirror in his dark lavish tent. A reflection of himself stares back with unbelievably clownish hair that he lets out a chuckle due to ridiculousness of it all.

“I do look quite silly,” he smiles and meets Laslow’s eyes in the mirror.

Laslow cannot respond, probably because he’s still trying to hold back his laughter, and reaches for Xander’s helmet, which he wears during the day to conceal his secret.

“Milord,” he finally says with great difficulty, his voice shaking with self restraint, “Maybe this will help.”

Xander stays still and lets Laslow raise the helmet above his head when Laslow perhaps grazes the mess of hair with his fingers and he lets out a guffaw.

Thank the Gods, he didn’t drop that helmet. The thing is no featherweight.

“I apologize, milord!” A mix of bewilderment and hilarity clash like a violent thunderstorm in his eyes.

Xander, surprised by the sound of his outburst, breaks into a laughter, his shoulders shaking. What was that ridiculous sound? Was that really a laughing sound made by a human?

Laslow unable to hold back anymore, starts laughing with him. And then they laugh and laugh. It became one of those moments where Xander felt like if he laughed anymore his stomach would fold in on itself because it hurt, especially under all this armor, but he couldn’t stop. At this point he had turned around to face Laslow, who had earnest tears flowing out of his eyes from laughing too hard. They have to stop soon, they were making too much noise. Any guard walking by would wonder if they’ve gone insane from all the cackling and wheezing associated from laughing too hard.

“Laslow,” He gasps with great effort, “We have to stop, this is not a laughing matter.”

Laslow nods, making an attempt to stop, only to break out laughing again as Xander pushes an overly poofed curl back as it was falling forward and obscuring his vision. Laughter is unfortunately contagious and Xander starts laughing again. It’s late. They have to stop. It’s past curfew at camp. Tomorrow he has to visit the towns and rally his people. They have to stop. Laslow reaches up to wipe tears off his beautiful laughing face. They have to stop. His gut hurts from laughing. So Xander leans forward and kisses Laslow to stop them both.

Laslow jolts under his hands, but then relaxes, leaning in, kissing back. And somehow a moment filled with such joviality instantly transforms into something else. It’s late. They are in a middle of an assignment. They have to stop before anyone else sees. Xander, blessed with the strength of the gods otherwise he doesn’t know how he could do it, pulls back, flustered. Laslow, still holding onto Xander’s helmet, looks back through long lashes breathing erratically, crimson from mouth to ears. Neither of them are smiling anymore. The air is heavily with something else.

Xander clears his throat, “Good night, Laslow.”

He turns around as he hears Laslow respond, “Good night, milord.”

  
And with a swish of the tent flap signifying Laslow’s departure, Xander begins preparing for some much needed rest. That is, if he can get any now.


	4. Rain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's raining and they are stuck here anyways.

Water rolls off the tiles above, individual drips combine to form a cacophony of sound accompanying the wet grey landscape. Laslow stands beside Xander, close enough that he could reach out and wrap his pinkie around Xander’s if he wishes.

“The rain doesn’t seem to be letting up,” Xander says, gazing out into the endless forests in front of them, the chosen location of their training this morning. Had they anticipated the rain, it might have been indoors. However, Nohr was having deceptively beautiful weather lately, the thought of an errant chance of rain had not crossed either of their minds.

Laslow looks around to look for an entryway back inside to where it’s dry and there isn’t an uncomfortable feeling of dampness every time he moves, “What shall we do, milord? Should we head back? You can use my pauldron to shield yourself from the rain.”

It is unfortunate the best clearing that was open and free for them to practice was at the back of the castle where the closest doors were quite a walk away.

“It’s alright, Laslow,” Xander smiles, “I’m in no rush today.”

Laslow blushes, sentiment warms his heart. He cannot help but smile a little wider, jubilant his lord is willing to spend a little more time with him despite their current situation.

“It’s nice too,” Xander says after a pause, “To have a moment of peace in times like these.”

“Agreed,” Laslow nods, gaze falling down to the ground where their feet are in view surrounded by puddles. He sticks one foot out and pokes a puddle, watching the ripples.

“Milord, in your youth have you ever played a game where you find the biggest puddle when it rains and you jump in it to see how much water you can splash?”

Xander looks at him, “No, unfortunately, I had no time besides studying and seeing my tutors. Elise and Leo had the luxury of play. I suppose if I wasn’t crown prince I’d have had the chance.”

Laslow’s ears redden, embarrassed that he had incited some memories that his lord may not be too fond of, “O-oh. I didn’t either. I mean I played with my friends but when it rained like this I would always be cautious, because I was afraid of getting too wet. But it was rain, we were going to get wet anyways. I was always envious of how much fun my friends had while I stood to the side watching them splash around.”

He pauses and laughs, “I was much different than I am now.”

“Were you? How so?” Xander hummed beside him.

“I..was..quite a shy little boy, but because of my encouraging beautiful mother, look at me now I’m a handsome devil of lady killer,” He winks up at Xander. His heart has been racing, every second besides Xander makes him more awake of it.

Xander closed his eyes and chuckles, “Those are not quite the words I’d chose to describe you. Although I can’t quite see you as being so shy.”

Laslow feins hurt and clutches his chest, "So cold, Lord Xander! My charm is irresistible! Why do you deny it!"

Without waiting for an answer, Laslow laughs, “What of you, milord? Still a charismatic elder brother I assume?”

“I don’t know about charisma, I have a duty to follow. But I suppose I’ve missed out on...fun I assume,” Xander looks out at the rain again.

Laslow follows his direction and looks out at the rain. Suddenly he has an idea. He starts to take off his pauldron and set his sword down so they don’t get wet. Xander watches him curiously.

“What are you doing, Laslow?”

“Set down your sword and whatever you don’t want to get wet, milord,” he holds out his hand, “And come with me. Let us right some small insignificant injustices of our childhoods.”

Xander sets down his sword and lets Laslow drag him out into the rain. Laslow watches him furrow his brows, squinting in the rain, so he holds his hand until he can adjust to everything. Then he spies a large puddle in the grass, runs and jumps into it. Xander holds up his hands in reflex, but then lowers them when he hears Laslow laughing.

Laslow grins at him, “Would you like to try, milord?”

Xander answers him by jumping in right next to him. Laslow blinks first in surprise, then disgust because mud is all over his shoes. He forgets everything when he looks up and sees Xander smiling widely at him, his heart skips a beat and all he can do is beam back.

“Is that all you got, Lord Xander? I would’ve assumed the crown prince has more game than that!”

Xander smirks, “Is that a challenge, Laslow? How bold.”

Laslow laughs as he runs to another and Xander jumps in the one next to him. It is exhilarating. Laslow can’t stop smiling, his heart racing from running around, everything is soaked straight through but he can’t stop. Xander is laughing, a sound that resonates to his core, his armor dripping and covered with mud, yet he makes no indication of discomfort as he continues with their game. He doesn’t know how long they continue to jump into puddles but at a certain point they both stand still, facing each other breathing hard as the rain tapers off and some sun peeks through the clouds.

“We should go inside and get changed before we catch something unpleasant,” Xander says finally breaking the silence.

Laslow nods and wipes water off his face.

They don’t have anything else to say, but the silence is comforting. They pick up their swords and armor and head back inside, smiling. A brief break is refreshing but now regular work resumes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is stupid but it hurt to write this.


	5. Nosey

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Their relationship became something more ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)

It is a rare situation that Xander would trip. Xander does not trip. He is always aware of his surroundings. A crown prince has grace.

Except when Laslow’s around. Their relationship evolved into something more recently and when he is around, he throws Xander off. For example, earlier when he dropped by to check in with him, Xander forgot his cat was in his lap. He stood up too quickly, his cat protested in surprise. And while he was too busy composing himself, he did not see the cat cut for the bed and proceeded to trip over it, inciting angry yowls and accidentally ended up in his current situation. With Laslow trapped against the wall under him. He can see him flushing. Xander feels his cheeks heat up in response. Why is this happening. It’s so awkward, with the blushing, and the erratic heartbeats, and the extremely close proximity to a inhumanly beautiful distraction named Laslow.

“I’m sorry,” he says outloud to both his cat, who’s gone who knows where, and to Laslow.

“It’s alright,” Laslow mumbles sheepishly, “You’ve surprised me is all.”

“I...I do not mean to...this is too early for us to-,” Xander stammers and trails off.

Laslow looks up at him with his beautiful brown eyes and reaches to touch his cheek. The sensation is burning, not in an unpleasant way per say, but it is definitely uncomfortable with his sense dulled and his tunnel vision on Laslow’s lovely face from his eyes, his nose, his mouth-

With a gentle tug, Laslow pulls him down, his fingers already entangled in Xander’s curls. Their lips almost touch when the guards at the door interrupt to call for Xander.

Pulling back a little, he sighs disappointedly, “Yes?”

“Your presence is required in the throne room, your highness.”

“Alright, I will be there shortly,” he glances down at Laslow who shrugs and grins back at him.

He starts to head for the door as well, “It can’t be helped, milord.”

Xander stops him mid turn and gently raises his chin. He kisses him on the nose, which makes Laslow’s cheeks flush scarlet since he’s sure he caught him by surprise.

“I will be back later,” he says as he releases Laslow’s chin and watches his eyes flutter downwards.

“I’ll be waiting,” Laslow beams.

Xander returns his smile and walks out of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) nose kisses ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)


	6. Tear Drop

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Laslow cries like a baby and Xander watches.

Occasionally Inigo will be hit by a wave of homesickness. It is strange because after all that traveling from one universe to another, one would think he’d have gotten over it by now (what is truly home after all?). He thinks of his mom, his sweet beautiful mom who would give him the best hugs and would know what to say to make him feel better. Mom from the universe where she is young and most importantly alive. Mom who could give him pointers on his dancing. He misses her so much. And then his friends. Gerome, Lucina, Brady, Cynthia, and everyone else. All the good times he had with them at camp. The trials and hardships they had to go through together.

Inigo gets misty eyed. He quickly delivers the load of laundry to where it needs to be and excuses himself.

It’s rare, but occasionally Inigo gives himself some private time to cry to relieve a lot of pent up feelings. This is a habit he has had since he was a child and it really helped him stay grounded and sane. War, daily failures of courting cute girls, daily chores, and secret identities builds up a lot of stress. Every now and then Inigo allows himself to have a good cry.

Retreating to his quarters he shares with Owain who is out at the moment on a mission with Lord Leo, Inigo sits at his window, and watches the fields below, willing the sadness and frustrated tears to come forward. Without much effort, they do, springing forth with fervor. Inigo, without a worry of being seen, lets himself ugly cry with snot dripping. Soft sobs fill the silence. This is his personal time to heal and it’s always been that way.

A knock on the door jolts him back to reality, as he takes a shaky sharp intake of breath, staring at the door in bewilderment wondering who could be knocking at this hour of the day. Everyone was sure to be at work or out in the town.

“Laslow, are you there?”

It’s Lord Xander. Recognition settles in before bewilderment comes and immediately morphs into mortification because the Gods help him, his lord cannot see him like this, in this sorry pathetic unraveled mess!

“I’m here, please hold on, I’ll get the door,” Inigo coughs, trying to hide the shakiness and breathlessness of a hard cry and will it away.

He rushes to get a mirror to check the state of his face after grabbing a washcloth lying to the side and wiping his face. It’s too obvious he’s been crying but maybe he can just weasel out another excuse. Maybe this time Xander would believe him.

Xander’s concerned voice comes muffled through the closed door, “Laslow, are you okay?”

“Ah, yes, I’m fine,” he stares at his reflection hopelessly as he opens the door to see his liege in front of him in his usual impressive regalia.

“Laslow…”

“Sorry, milord, you caught me while I was napping,” Inigo laughs loudly, a nervous tick he needs to work on, “What can I do for you, sir”

Xander says nothing, concern is very apparent all over his face. He reaches out and cups his cheek. Inigo can do nothing but avert his gaze. In all honesty, all he would like to do is to pull out of Xander’s hold because Xander shouldn’t see him like this. It is unbefitting as his retainer and utterly out of character and humilia-

“Have you been crying?”

Inigo stiffens as Xander asks him gently. He shakes his head violently and breaks out into a grin, still uncomfortable that Xander’s hand is still in place on his cheek. He wishes hard for all the evidence to disappear as he speaks a bold faced lie, “No milord, sometimes I take naps and you know how naps are horrible for the complexion, but I was just so tired today from all the chores and work so I snuck in one real quick and was hoping all the signs would go away you know-”

Inigo takes an involuntary breath. It’s betrays him. He’s angry at himself.

Xander looks at him. Inigo knows from that look. He doesn’t believe him one bit. Inigo knows but he can’t help but continue to tell the lie that no one, even himself, is believing. Opening his mouth to provide further explanation, Xander stops him but stepping forward thereby nudging Inigo back into his room after a few steps. Inigo’s grip on the door loosens and the door shuts with a bang.

“If you would like me to lend an ear, I’d be more than happy to listen, Laslow,” Xander says in a tone reserved for private comfort. A tone he hears Xander use with his siblings, especially with Corrin and Elise. It almost breaks his heart every time as it reminds him how considerate his lord is and how much he loves him.

“I,” Inigo’s breath catches as he gives up trying to convince Xander, “I just...gods this is so embarrassing milord, if I could, I would wish for you to never see me like this.”

He flushes a deep red, and if Xander could see his full body (now that’s a completely silly thought, why would he do that) he would be red from head to toe.

“We live in hard times, Laslow, I understand. War is not glamorous; we’ve lost many friends and allies,” Xander trails off. His face looks conflicted and uncomfortable in this situation.

Inigo knows comforting is not Xander’s forte, but he appreciates him to the ends of the earth for trying.

“It’s fine Milord, this is how I cope. I just,” Inigo blinks and tears well up right on cue, “...have a little cry now and then. It...it doesn’t make me less of a man….but if it embarrasses you to have a weak willed retainer...I must apologize, they won’t stop...you caught me at such a time, Lord Xander.”

The tears start spilling again. Xander blinks at him, sitting beside him on his bed. Inigo starts to turn away to hid his disgraceful state, when Xander reaches forward and wipes a tear away.

“Laslow, you are an odd one. How can you smile so brightly when your eyes speak such sadness,” he says so softly. Inigo’s heart skips a beat.

Inigo can’t look at him and he curses himself every time another tear dares makes its presence in front of Xander. _Stop crying. Stop crying you idiot._ This is disgraceful, but a small part of him is so happy that Xander is here wiping his tears away, looking at him with such gentle eyes. This attention he so desperately wants from the person that he wants and now he has it. At least for this moment.

“I pray to the Gods, this war will end soon and there will be happier times,” Xander says when Inigo finally gets his body to cooperate and stop crying, “For now this is all I can do. If you have any insecurities and worries, do not be afraid to speak with me, Laslow. If it is for my retainers’ happiness, I will take time to help you.”

Inigo flushes again, embarrassed. Lord Xander has a special talent for saying things that will make him fall in love again and again.

He sits still for a while, cherishing the feel of Xander’s palm on his cheek, before meeting Xander’s eyes once again, “I am eternally grateful, milord.”

He removes Xander’s hand with both of his, his fingers giving Xander’s hand a squeeze before resting on the mattress, “But milord, you’ve dawdled with your silly retainer long enough, please continue your duties.”

Xander stares at his hand enclosed by Inigo's before Inigo grows self conscious and lets go. Inigo notices a slight eyebrow twitch in response, wondering what it means.

“Are you sure, Laslow? Do you need some time off?”

Inigo shakes his head, “No milord, I will be fine, just give me a few minutes to recover.”

He walks Xander to the door and wishes him off. Closing the door, he exhales and stands still blinking lethargically before realizing that he did not ask Xander why he came looking for him.

It’s probably not anything important since Xander did not mention it on his way out. Inigo makes a mental note to ask him later when he brings him tea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Might do a Xander pov, because it might be interesting to see what hes thinking.


End file.
